The Missing Sumecian
by IzzyDelta
Summary: This is a sequel to Kate221b's fantastic story 'The Box' featuring a teenager sherlock. This is set after in between The Great Game and before A Scandal in Belgravia. An old friends seeks the consulting detective's help and an old enemy reawakens... DO NOT OWN CHARACTERS BBC/ACD/Kate221b do . Enjoy!
1. Prologue

_**This is a sequel to Kate221b's fabulous story 'The Box.' To fully appreciate this you might have to read it. The following two characters are follow ons from her amazing story. This is set in-between The Great Game and A Scandal in Belgravia. With out further ado:**_

**Sequel to: The Box**

**Prologue**

**(Transcript of phone conversation between Matt Ryding and Dr James Harrison. Confidential. For the eyes of Mycroft Holmes, Anthea Turnbald and Jason Nelson only.)**

*Phone rings* Hello? Hello? Who is this? If this is another prank I will report it. I'm a busy man.

_Dr Harrison?_

This is Dr Harrison

_Dr James Harrison formally of Elmhurst Psychiatric hospital._

*Heavy sigh* Yes.

_Now of Edinburgh Medical School and part-time consultant?_

Yes.

_I'm sorry. I called you yesterday and the day before but my courage bottled when you picked up._

*Sigh* Who is this?

_*Pause*Matt._

Matt? Matt who?

_Matt Ryding. We worked with a patient together at Elmhurst. A patient with severe trust issues._

Do you mean Sherlock Holmes?

_Yes._

*Exhaled breath* Matt, of course. Sorry, yes, I know who you are now.

_I need your help._

For what?

_I don't know what to do._

About what?

_My partner has disappeared. _

What am I supposed do about that?

_You know Greek don't you? You studied the classical languages._

Yes. I take there's a note.

_Yes._

In Greek.

_I assume so._

Are you near a computer?

_Yes_

And a scanner or a camera

_A scanner yes._

Scan it and send me the note attached to an email.

_*Sounds of a computer and scanner* What's your email?_

James dot Harrison at Hotmail dot com. All lower case

_*Clicks on a computer* It's sent._

Yes I've got it. Right give me a minute

_*Heavy breathing interspersed with shallow nervous breaths with audible_ _swallowing*_

Matt, calm down. Panicking gets you nowhere.

_He's not just my partner. He's my fiancé._

Congratulations

_Thank you_

When is the big day?

_Two weeks._

Ah. Right. Ready for the message.

_*Audible swallow* no but go on_

We have Jason. Do not go to the police. You know what we need and you **will** give us everything.

_*Stifled gasp*_

What do they mean?

_I don't know. Is there any more?_

Yes. But I can't read. I think it's Babylonian. But I can't be sure. I assume you don't want me to go to my friend from university.

_No. I don't want anyone else to see it._

It's ok Matt. I understand. Can I suggest something?

_Go on._

Where are you?

_Aveley. Just off the M25._

Head into Central London, specifically 221b Baker Street.

_Who's there?_

Sherlock. He's a consultant now.

_What kind?_

*Gentle laughter* You mean to say you haven't kept tabs on him?

_Not really, he asked me not to._

Fair enough. He's a consulting detective, works with Scotland Yard on the difficult cases. Go onto his website, err the science of deduction His cases are also detailed by John Watson.

_You've been following him._

Of course I have. I have often been worried about him. It's good to see that some people accept him for who he is.

_Thank you for your help James._

No problem. Could I ask you one favour?

_Tell you what John is like? Yes I will. _

*Muffled laughter* Talk soon. It's been far too long.

_Yes it has. Let's try and make sure it's a happier topic._

*Laughter* *_laughter_*

_Goodbye James._

Goodbye Matt.

*Click*

(**End of Transcript. Copy of email attached.**)


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

A man in his mid thirties stands outside the door immediately to the right of Speedy's Snack Bar. He lifts his hand to knock on the door but hesitates and drops it. He swallows and scrubs his face. Unconsciously, he rubs along his forearm following some of the faint white lines running parallel to the length. He glances up and down the street and up at the windows belonging to 221b Baker Street. He swallows again and presses his finger against the middle doorbell. Removing his finger from the button he grabs at the railing to the side of the doorstep. As he waits for someone to answer the door it feels like every passing second is actually an hour. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he hears footsteps approaching on the other side of the door. He pulls himself together just before a very fashionable elderly lady opens the door. She smiles at his obvious bemusement. 'Are you looking for Sherlock Holmes?' The young man nods mutely. 'Don't worry; you've got the right address. He lives upstairs.' His bemused expression leaves his face earning himself another smile.

'If you don't mind my asking, who are you?'

'His landlady, Mrs Hudson.'

'Is he in?'

'Not at the moment, but he'll be back soon.' Mrs Hudson steps back from the door. The young man steps in and Mrs Hudson closes the door behind him. 'Go on upstairs. He won't mind you waiting in the living room. I'll bring you up a cuppa and some biscuits. You look like you need it.' Mrs Hudson bustles into her flat leaving the young man staring after. He shakes his head to clear it and slowly climbs the seventeen steps. He opens the door to the living room and takes in the cluttered flat. He smirks and remembers the detective as a young man. The rooms are complete opposites from the other. He sinks into the armchair facing the window, leans his head back and closes his eyes relaxing for the first time since finding the note. He listens to the sounds of the street below, the rustling of Mrs Hudson's clothes and the chink of a cup and saucer onto table in between the chairs. He smiles to thank her. 'Sleep if you need to. I'll keep an eye out for them and warn them.' She whispers to him before walking quietly out closing the door behind her.

The next thing the young man heard was Mrs Hudson walking up the stairs with another pair of feet behind her. 'John, dear you will be kind won't you?'

'Yes Mrs Hudson.' John's voice is patient with their not-housekeeper.

'He's awfully tired and stressed. Poor thing hasn't slept in days. He's asleep now. He's got a cup of tea but it's probably cold by now.'

'You don't need to worry Mrs Hudson.'

'He's here to see Sherlock you know.' The young man can tell that they are just on the other side of the closed door.

'Yes, Mrs Hudson, I'm sure he is.'

'He's terribly polite.'

'Mrs Hudson, I can take it from here. You go and rest your hip. Coming up here will have put extra strain on it. Doctor's orders.' The young man listens to the footsteps of Mrs Hudson retreat from the door before it opens and the footsteps of the man enter going straight through to the kitchen and depositing shopping bags onto the kitchen table. 'Sherlock.' John growls. 'You and your ruddy experiments.' The young man snorts. 'Refill?' the young man opens his eyes and twists in his chair to look at Dr John Watson.

'How did you know I was awake? And yes please.'

'Apart from your snort, your breathing pattern was too rugged.' John brews the tea and carries two mugs into the living room. He sets one by the cup of cold tea and sits himself in one of the desk chairs. The young man glances at Sherlock's armchair before returning his gaze to John.

'Why-'

'Why am I not sitting in the other chair? Simply because Sherlock will kill anyone who presumes they can sit there. Mrs Hudson is the only exception to the rule. Even his brother follows it. Mrs Hudson, we love her to bits but she can be overwhelming.' John looks at him. 'You didn't give your name.'

'Matt.'

'Right Matt, do you want to get whatever it is off your chest or wait for Sherlock? The very basic info will be fine for me. It's better if I brief Sherlock when we've got a client and he's nowhere to be seen.'

'The very basic?' john nods.

'You don't have to.'

'My fiancé was kidnapped and a cryptic note was left. I can't read it.' John nods sympathetically.

'You don't have to say anymore.' Matt grins weakly. 'I know how hard it is to have someone you really care for go missing.'

'I read your blog before coming here.'

'Really?'

'But a friend told me to come and see Sherlock.' John's phone beeps

'Excuse me.' he looks at the message. 'Sherlock will be here in about ten minutes. A small warning, Sherlock can be very gruff and abrupt.'

'I know.' John raises his eyebrows.

'How?' Matt scratches the back of his head. 'Matt. He's spoken of you. Although he wouldn't admit it being delirious at the time.'

'What did he say?'

'I'm assuming you're Matt Ryding who used to work at Elmhurst.'

'Yes.'

'He called for you. Cried for you actually but of course.'

'He wouldn't admit it.'

'Or remember.' The two of them sit in silence until the door to the street bangs open and shut and footsteps stamp up the stairs. 'He's in a mood. Probably Anderson.'

'Sherlock!' The shrill voice of Mrs Hudson floats up the stairs after the consulting detective. The detective ignores both of the men in the living room preferring to go straight into the kitchen and sit at his most recent experiment.

'John. Bags. Tea.' John pulls a face.

'Sherlock, client.' Sherlock glances at John.

'Basics.'

'Kidnapping. Cryptic note. Old friend.'

'I don't have friends.'

'Pull the other one Sherlock.' Matt says from his seat not turning around. Sherlock's head jerks up. He stands and strides into the living room.

'Matt.' Matt grins at him. Sherlock sits in his chair.

'Sherlock. Doing well for yourself.'

'I owe a lot of it to you.'

'I heard that you don't do gratitude.'

'I don't. However, you, John, Claire, Sarah and James are the exceptions.'

'Not Greg?'

'Why should-'

'He doesn't have to let on his cases Sherlock. And he saved your life.'

'What can I do for you Matt? There will be no charge.'

'My fiancé Jason Horatio Nelson has been kidnapped.' Matt retrieves an envelope from his pocket. 'This note was left on my kitchen table.'

'When?'

'Day before yesterday.' Sherlock stares at Matt. 'I wanted to know what it said and the only person I could think of who spoke Greek was James Harrison so I rang him up.'

'You knew I spoke Greek.'

'I wasn't sure how to contact you. I heeded your warning about Simmonds. I didn't know about this.' Matt waves his hand around at the room. 'He keeps an eye out for you.'

'Sentiment.' Sherlock scoffs. Matt and John smirk at each other both knowing that Sherlock didn't actually mean it.

'Anyway, he translated the Greek part but he didn't know the bottom bit.' Sherlock removes the note from the envelope and scans it.

'It's been scanned.'

'I scanned it to send to James Harrison. He thinks it's Babylonian.'

'Close but wrong. This is Sumerian. Same time but it was more Eastern. Mesopotamia or modern Iraq rather than modern Syria and Saudi Arabia.'

'James Harrison said that the Greek bit says: _We have Jason. Do not go to the police. You know what we need and you __**will**__ give us everything._'

'He's right it does.'

'Go on Sherlock you're dying to tell us what does the last bit say?' John intercedes

'You know who we are, you will obey or he dies.'


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

In the middle of Scotland Yard, DI Lestrade paces in between the desks. The police officers that report to him watch him out of the corner of their eyes, worried about him. On one side of the room a dark haired lady rises and perches on her desk fully intending to draw his attention. He ignores her until she clears her throat. But he only responds by pausing, turning his head and glaring at her before resuming his pacing. Her head follows his every movement and just as she opens her mouth to ask him if anything is wrong his phone rings. 'Finally.' He mutters answering the phone. 'Hello? Lestrade. Yes… yes… of course… I understand… yes, they have. So, what now?' Lestrade grins and aborts the call just as Sherlock enters through the door. Lestrade spins and meets Sherlock's eye.

'Well?'

'We've got him.' Sherlock smirks.

'And to think I'd almost lost faith in you Inspector.' John appears behind Sherlock.

'No, you didn't.'

'Where's Matt?'

'Out front, he doesn't want to come in.'

'I told you… argh, I'll go and get him.' Sherlock pushes past John to go and find his friend. John watches him storm off with an amused expression.

'Who's Matt?'

'An old friend. Sherlock knew him when he was younger.'

'The freak had friends?'

'Yes, and he has friends now. Oh and I wouldn't even think about calling Sherlock a freak in Matt's hearing. He's quite over protective of Sherlock.'

'He give you the if you hurt him talk?'

'Yep, he's scarier than Mycroft.' John's smiles and inclines his head towards Lestrade's office. The DI understands and walks into his office. John follows and closes the door behind them.

John glances out of the window into the main part of the floor. Spotting that all the officers, plain clothed and uniformed, are watching them. He closes the blinds to give them privacy and to ensure that no one could read their lips. As the last blind falls, John's smirk morphs into a serious and worried expression. 'Has Sherlock ever told you about his teenage years? Specifically the late teenage years?' Lestrade sinks into his desk chair. He doesn't reply as he thinks through every conversation he's had with Sherlock. Finally, he shakes his head.

'No, I don't think so. He's rather quiet about those years.'

'He was placed into an institution. A psych unit.'

'Does Sherlock knows you're telling me all this?'

'Yes, as does Matt.'

'How does Matt fit into this?'

'He was an intern at the unit.'

'He treated Sherlock?'

'What I've gathered from what they've told me Sherlock had been placed in the institution by his father and to begin with he didn't trust anyone. He started to trust one of the psychiatrists with two of the nurses and Matt. The psychiatrist was more or less pushed into a job a thousand miles away. The replacement psychiatrist was rather corrupt and wanted Sherlock sedated 24/7 and use a rather vicious treatment on his to ensure that certain memories were wiped from his memory. Permanently.'

'Paid by his father?'

'No evidence.' John sighs. 'Matt said that he, Claire and Sarah conspired to get Sherlock moved institutions.'

'Jesus. Explains a hell of a lot.'

'Matt never looked for Sherlock after he left Elmhurst, the institution, in case the corrupt guy was keeping an eye out for Sherlock.' A commotion is heard on the other side of the door. John opens it wearily to see Anderson and another officer intercept Sherlock and Matt. Donovan coughs discreetly but the forensic officer ignores her.

'Ahh, the freak's new boyfriend. Has John got tired of you already?' The officer sniggers at Anderson's tone. John sees Matt's fists clench. 'Has he finally worked out that you're a freak?' John silently beckons to Matt who edges round Sherlock and is let through by Anderson. Once past the officers Matt's expression becomes into a frustrated angry one. 'Where did you meet your new boyfriend? Freaks 'r' us?' Sherlock just stands there for a moment longer before inspecting his nails. He looks past Anderson at three of his friends. He moves his gaze back at Anderson.

'When you've finished lowering the IQ of the entire city, you might want to look behind you.'

'Yeah right, I'm not going to fall for that. Why would I do that?'

'Because I'm standing right here.' John says. Anderson spins and stares John, who turns his head to Matt. 'He called Sherlock a freak.'

'Should we stand for it?'

'We can't help him if we get arrested for assault.'

'Even if he deserves it, which he does. I take it you did warn them.'

'Yep.'

'He didn't listen. Why aren't I surprised?' Matt pauses. 'He must be Anderson.'

'He is, and purposefully ignored John's warning.' Matt snorts at Anderson's expression of guilt and anxiety. 'Sherlock, there's something else I need you to see. If you can translate it all the better.' Sherlock pushes past Anderson roughly and steps past his friends and into Lestrade's office.

'Where is it?'

'Why are the blinds are down?' Matt asks

'We didn't want to risk letting any of them learn anything about.' John tilts his head towards the window to the desk floor. 'You know.'

'We can open them up now.'

'What needs to be translated?'

'This.' Lestrade produces a letter from under several papers on his desk. Matt fixes his eyes on the paper. Sherlock looks over every single square inch of envelope. 'The main part of the writing inside is Greek or some other hieroglyphic alphabet. The second part is Aramaic or Arabic or Hebrew.'

'Greek and Sumerian, I would guess.' Sherlock mutters as he opens the envelope.

'How do you know?'

'There's another.' Matt says weakly. 'What does it say Lock?' Sherlock smirks at the name only Matt had been aloud to call him inside Elmhurst Institution.

'A place of secrets, devoid of memories, an Argo lies, find the dove and fleece.'

'Elmhurst.' Matt says weakly. 'Jason.'

'Simmonds.' Sherlock adds. Matt nods.

'He's going to-'

'MATT!' Sherlock snaps. 'No you are not. And he won't.'

'How do you know?'

'He wants the both of us riled up. Emotional. I'm not going to play his game. He. Will. Play. Mine.' Matt and Sherlock have a staring contest before Matt backs down.

'There's more isn't there Sherlock?' John intervenes.

'It's for me.'

'What does it say?' John's tone is adamant. He sighs. 'Tell me.' He speaks in Dari.

'I wasn't finished. You left too soon.' Sherlock replies also speaking in Dari.

'What are you two saying?'

'You can't believe that Sherlock.' John says switching back to English.

'I don't.'

'Matt, tell Greg everything. Sherlock with me.' John strides out of the office. Sherlock pauses. 'Now.' Sherlock sighs but follows gesturing for Matt to stay with Lestrade.

John finds an empty room on Lestrade's floor of Scotland Yard. He leads Sherlock in and checks to see if anyone is in earshot. No one is. He shuts the door behind them and turns to face Sherlock. The tall detective stands at the window but at an angle. John makes eye contact with Sherlock's reflection. 'You can't believe that Sherlock. You aren't ill. In any sense of the word.'

'Aren't I?' Sherlock turns to face his flatmate. 'I've never been able to make friends easily, people tend to despise me after the first few minutes, I never learnt how to filter thoughts from my brain to mouth.' John is surprised to see tears in Sherlock's eyes. 'Often I don't understand how you can stand to be my friend.'

'I'm your friend because I don't judge straight away. I know you have to spend time with someone before you can really decide. But I've seen your worst days and you at your most annoying, but I've also seen you at your best. Besides Simmonds has been up at three or four different councils about his excessive use of ECT.'

'How do you know that?'

'I've been on two of them.'


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Lestrade and Matt are sit in Lestrade's office with a companionable silence surrounding them. Suddenly, both of their phone's beep simultaneously. They each look at the sender. 'Sherlock?' Lestrade asks

'Sherlock.' Matt confirms. They rise and exit the office.

'Sir, where are you going?'

'Out.' Lestrade replies bluntly.

'But the case…'

'On another.'

'Should-'

'No.' Lestrade snaps rapidly exiting through the main door of the homicide department.

A few minutes later, Matt follows Lestrade out of the main entrance of Scotland Yard and spot Sherlock watching the smokers near the entrance. 'Where's John?' Matt asks.

'On his way to the headquarters of the GMC.'

'Why?' Lestrade asks totally confused.

'He reckons that he can two of us inside.'

'Him and?'

'You.' Sherlock says bluntly.

'Why me? Why not you or Matt?'

'Far too many unpleasant memories. They might recognise him.' Sherlock snorts. 'I don't like it.'

'He's right Lock. If I go there, I will beat him senseless. If you go, he'll say that it's voluntary admission. He'll probably already have the papers drawn up.'

'I feel useless.' Sherlock mutters.

'Why am I going in?'

'A high-ranking police officer and a doctor who sits on GMC councils. Between the pair of you, you can get access to everything and everyone.' The text alert noise sounds on Lestrade's phone. He quickly accesses the text and reads it.

'What don't you like?'

'John says that he needs me over there.'

'Then go.' Lestrade stares at Sherlock 'I'll be fine.'

'Have you told him?'

'About what?' Lestrade raises an eyebrow. 'Yes.' The DI raises the other one. Sherlock huffs. 'No.' He admits reluctantly.

'Then tell him.'

'Tell me about what?' Matt looks between the two detectives.

'Sherlock, I'm meeting up with John in twenty minutes. By the time I get there, you will have told him.' Sherlock scowls. 'This is about his opinion of you isn't it?' The tall detective nods reluctantly. 'You've seen him when he's been bad right?' Matt nods. 'Then nothing can change your opinion of him right?'

'No.' Matt opens his mouth to say more but closes it again as he has a quiet revelation. 'This is about drugs isn't it?' Lestrade's face is carefully blank and he walks away, hearing Sherlock's quiet affirmation and Matt's gentle laugh. His phone rings, he answers it knowing with out looking that it's Matt. He doesn't say anything and listens to the tinny voices being emitted from the speakers. 'Sherlock, I've seen you catatonic on sedative drugs and immediately after a round of ECT. Did you really think I would be disgusted that you had taken recreational drugs? Coke, right? Yeah it would be, it gives the best high and best at quieting the brain.' Lestrade winces at the statement. 'Besides I would be a hypocrite, remember, I did drugs before, well, you know.'

'I remember. Thank you.' Lestrade smiles at the gratitude in Sherlock's voice. He discreetly hangs up allowing the two of them as much privacy as he can give them.

Lestrade walks through the doors of the headquarters of the General Medical Council. He looks around at the entrance hall searching for John. He spots the doctor arguing with an obvious senior official dealing with the councils. 'He came to me because he knew that I have been on these councils.'

'I understand that but why does he have to come to you? Why didn't he come straight here?'

'He wouldn't tell me.' Lestrade makes his way over to the two arguing doctors. John watches him surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. He fakes surprise when Lestrade clears his throat. 'Hi Greg.' John turns to the official. 'This is Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. Greg, this is Doctor Aaron Stetson. He's the officer who has to clear your request.'

'Detective inspector, I do not fully understand your request therefore I cannot grant it.'

'John, I apologise, I neglected to provide you with the full information.'

'We were talking on an unsecure phone-line. It's understandable.'

'Could we discuss this privately? Sensitive information.'

'Of course this way.' Aaron leads John and Lestrade to his private office on a higher floor.

Lestrade follows John and Aaron into the office and closes the door behind him. Aaron seats himself in his chair behind the desk. John leans against a filing cabinet meaning Lestrade can take the only other chair in the room. Aaron twiddles a pen in his hands. 'So, Detective Inspector, what is it exactly you need?'

'We arrested an individual last week who gave us an obviously false name. He was released on bail 24 hours later but has since disappeared. We have been given some information that he has checked himself into Elmhurst.'

'You need?'

'Access to the facilities and the basic patient's files.' John interjects.

'You don't need to talk to the patient, suspect?'

'We just need to establish his whereabouts. I assume he wouldn't be able to check out whenever he wants to.'

'You are correct.'

'He has to stay four weeks minimum.' Aaron shoots John an inquisitive look, as does Lestrade. 'What? I've been there twice. I know it's their minimum.'

'Of course.' Aaron strokes his goatee. 'Now I have all the relevant information. I will grant your request.'

'Thank you.' Aaron glances at the mess on his desk. 'Is there anything wrong?'

'What makes you say that?'

'I'm not a DI for nothing you know.' Aaron smiles grimly.

'We received a message but cannot translate it.'

'May I see it?' Aaron retrieves a paper from the disarray and hands it over to Lestrade. He shares a look with John who snatches from him.

'Greek and Sumerian.' John says instantly barely looking over the letter.

'How do you know that?'

'There are two others.' Lestrade says grimly.

'I'm granting you immediate and total access for the institution. It's not by the books but…' He trails off as he writes the medical warrant. 'You will need one from your side Inspector.'

'Already sorted.' Aaron hands the piece of paper to John who takes it ands heads for the door.

'Lets go.' Lestrade stops him.

'The note.' John scowls.

'May we photocopy your note and take the original complete with envelope. We want to her it to Sherlock Holmes for him to give us and you a translation.'

'Of course.' Aaron replies already stepping over to the photocopier. He quickly photocopies the note and replaces the original in its envelope and gives it john. The former army doctor leaves the office abruptly with Lestrade on his heels. They leave Aaron standing in his office feeling rather dumbfounded.


End file.
